Dead, Alive, and Dead
by TempeJill
Summary: Booth's POV after Wannabe in the Weeds and then watching his own funeral and the reactions of Bones and the others.


**This is Booth's POV on what happened after Wannabe in the Weeds. It was partially inspired by Ptitange99's story 'Treason'. Check it out, it's really good :)**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Bones.**

* * *

Booth opened his eyes, blinking to clear his vision. Ow... his shoulder was killing him. He glanced down at it. Wonderful; so many bandages he couldn't even really see his arm...

He reached with his other arm for the glass of water on the bedside table and drank it down quickly. He wondered how long he'd been unconscious as he observed his small hospital room.

It was oddly quiet and... empty.

_Where's Bones?_ He thought, feeling slightly hurt that she wasn't right next to him, telling him how relieved she was that he was alive. After all, she'd been right there when he'd blinked his eyes open after her refrigerator exploded on him. Maybe she'd just felt bad that time, he thought sadly, since it had been _her_ refrigerator. But then... by those standards she should be here all the more. Because that bullet had been aimed at her, not him.

Oh God! He thought suddenly, a flood of relief going through him. She was alive! He remembered her bending over him after the shot went into him, shouting something at him. He couldn't really remember what it was, just that he'd wanted to stay with her, to take that pain and fear off of her face... and he'd faded into black.

He cursed himself. She must have been so worried...

Maybe she wasn't here because... maybe he'd been out for longer than he'd thought...

_Oh please tell me I haven't been in a god darn coma..._

He quickly swung his head towards the bedside table again, wincing at the pain from the sudden action, and then sighed in relief. No vase of flowers. That meant he hadn't been here long at all. He knew that coma patients had people that changed the flowers every week, staring at their loved one sadly as they tossed the old ones out in the nearest trash bin.

Okay, so not a coma. What possibilities were there other than that?

He sighed and then reached over to hit that little button that called a nurse. It was about time he got some answers about more than one thing. He wanted to know when he could get out of here.

It had better be soon.

A nurse bustled in, smiling at him. "Oh, excellent, Agent Booth you're awake."

_Agent Booth?_ Since when did nurses address him by his FBI title?

"How long have I been here?" he asked quickly.

"Only a few hours, Agent Booth; we got you through surgery successfully and we expect a full recovery."

"Great. Has anyone come to see me? Did they say when they'd be back?"

He looked around for a phone and spotted one. Good, he'd give Bones a call.

"Actually, Agent Booth, we've been asked to not let any visitors see you." He frowned. Say what? "The FBI gave us specific orders. I'll have the secretary give your superior a call so he can... explain."

Great, so the nurses knew what was going on more so than he did? Oh that was just cruel. He was going to have a strong word with Cullen about this. Not _allowing_ visitors... he was surprised the nurse wasn't limping, since Bones would have surely broken somebody's leg for not being _allowed_ to do something.

She hurried out and he was left in silence. Well, he'd see about that _no visitors_ thing. He reached for the phone to dial Bones' number and tell her to come see him. If he requested visitors than they had _better_ not turn them away.

He got the secretary and told her what number to put him through to.

"Oh, sorry, Agent Booth." Great, she knew him too. "We can't put you through. Please hang up the phone, you'll be getting a call in a moment."

He slammed the phone back on the receiver and glared at the ceiling. He really, really hated hospitals.

The phone rang within minutes and he snatched it back up, growling "Hello?" into it.

"Booth, glad to see you've pulled through just fine." It was Cullen.

"Yeah, sir, me too. Listen, Bones-"

There was a sigh from the other line. "Booth, you can't have any contact with Dr. Brennan. _Or_ any squints. Or... anybody."

Booth waited in impatient silence for a further explanation, gritting his teeth in aggravation.

"Booth, you are aware with how the FBI uses certain situations to their advantage during a national security issue that has a chance of being solved?"

"Yes, sir?" Oh god, what did they have in mind for him?

"Everyone has been informed that you are dead, Booth."

His mouth fell open, and he moved it up and down a few times with no words coming out. "Um..." he finally managed. "What?"

"Everyone except your immediate family, of course, Booth. Parker is aware that you are alive, we made sure of that. He'll be kept away from everyone who doesn't know, though."

"Bones-?"

"No, Booth. National security requires that only those who need to know have been informed... you will supply our office with a list and those on it, who you will pick _very_ carefully, will be told."

"Can I tell you my list now? I'd rather they found out immediately."

"Fire away, agent."

"Bo- Dr. Brennan... um..." he stumbled to figure out who else could be trusted, and definetly needed to know, that wasn't a part of his immediate family or the FBI. He had little success. "The rest of the squints, I think, sir."

"I'll have that passed on to our consultant who will analyze the safety of telling those people and then carry out your wishes." Safety, hah, as if telling Bones would lead to a national disaster. She had to be the most trustworthy person he knew. And the squints had all worked on plenty of cases that required secrecy.

"I won't be able to talk to Bones?" he asked, not bothering to correct his use of her nickname this time. Whatever; Cullen knew who he was referring to anyways.

"No, Agent Booth. You understand."

He sighed. "Yeah, I understand." Not that he'd enjoy it any more though. "How long?" he asked suddenly, realizing that Cullen hadn't given him all the details yet.

"Two weeks." Okay, he could handle that... he supposed. Two weeks without Bones, though, was going to be miserable. "Do you remember that... suspect that you were attempting to capture five years ago?" He thought back and quickly recalled the case. Immediately he caught on with what they were going to do.

"He said we'd only ever see him again at my funeral. We're going to hold a funeral for me, sir?"

"You got it, Booth."

Oh, that was going to be _weird_.

"And... where am I going once I get out of this hospital bed?" he asked.

"We'll have agents pick you up and move you to a secure location until the funeral."

"Okay, sir."

He was about to hang up when there was a commotion out in the hall that distracted him. He could hear shouting. Sounded like... an angry woman. "Sir," he said, "Are you sure everyone was already informed that I'm dead?"

"Yes, Booth, why?"

"Bones is... here. Sounds like she might end up killing a nurse."

There was a groan from Cullen, and then the line went dead.

Booth set the phone back in the cradle and attempted to hear what was being shouted. He winced every time she screamed. God, she was upset. He _hated_ when she was upset...

The sooner they told her he was alive the better.

Eventually there was only silence... assumably she'd been forcibly removed from the hospital. Bones... god, they'd better stinking tell her _soon_.

If he could move at all, he would've just gone straight out that door and let her see him herself, but seeing as the slightest movement was pretty impossible with all the drugs he was pumped with and the fact that he had to grit his teeth in agony too... he figured he'd better not injure himself further. He'd rather see her again as soon as possible and that wasn't going to happen if he did something that put him back in surgery.

Eventually he slid back into a restless sleep, the only thing on his mind her horror-struck face after he'd been shot...

* * *

The days passed incredibly slowly, and he was seriously missing that lab that he usually disliked. Mostly, he knew he was just missing her.

She must know by now, so he didn't have much to worry about. She was probably at home, furious with him for some reason or other. Probably for getting shot saving her. She hated having to be saved, he knew. And she was probably just as mad that she wasn't able to see him, or that she'd screamed her head off at the hospital staff about him being dead when he really was not.

He smiled slightly at that. She'd screamed her head off at them... that would have been amusing to watch, if only he'd been able to get a good view on it. She was so cute when she was mad... of course, not when she was mad at _him_. That always just hurt.

But his amusement vanished quickly, and he sighed. She'd really been in pain when she'd been yelling at those nurses. She'd really been in pain because of _him_. If it wasn't so horrible to think of her hurting, he might have been pleased by how much she apparently missed him... how much he apparently meant to her.

He'd better not mention this to her later, after he came back. She'd kill him if he even suggested that she was emotionally attached to him in such a way. Best to pretend he'd never even heard the shouting. For the time being, anyways. Maybe he'd tell her someday, if a situation presented itself where it was necessary.

The day finally came where they released him from the hospital and he was collected from a back entrance. He barely even got a glimpse of the outside world and the sunshine before he was in the back of a black FBI van speeding off to who-knew-where.

* * *

Finally, _finally_, the day of the funeral arrived. He'd been bored out of his mind and he hadn't been able to stop thinking about Bones.

He pulled on his uniform and accepted the gun and hat that the other agent passed to him. He nodded his thanks as he pulled on the cap and then slid white gloves over his hands.

He looked sharp, he had to admit. But today was going to be a stressful day. He was going to see everyone again, after all, and he was going to see _her._ At last. But he was also going to have to apprehend a dangerous man he'd been after since so very long ago. He'd never actually expected this chance to get him. He had to say that he _was_ looking forward to seeing the guy's face when he slugged him and took him down...

"Ready?" the other agent asked. He nodded.

"Yeah, I'm ready. Although I never intended to be heading to my own funeral."

The other agent didn't laugh, and Booth sighed. No sense of humor around here. At least he could always joke around with Bones and her blank look wasn't one of contempt... it was one of 'I really don't get what you just said.' He always loved when she was confused. It was like revenge for all those times that he stared blankly while she listed off scientific names and such.

The casket, empty of course, was already waiting when they arrived. He filed in with the other soldiers and stood at attention. Then he waited.

There were already a few people there; Caroline Julian was talking to a small gathering of people. He recognized most of them. The squint squad hadn't arrived yet though. He continued to wait apprehensively.

Rebecca stood off to one side, staring pointedly at the ground. Her eyes flicked around every once in a while though; looking for him no doubt. Parker wasn't there. Good, this whole thing would only confuse him.

He glanced out of the corner of his eye as he saw a line of more people approaching. He scanned them but Bones wasn't there. No squints yet either. Where were they?

The people who had just joined them were all relatives of his... a few looked less sad than the rest; those were the ones who had safely been informed. The more distant family members who he barely even knew didn't look much bothered either, but they did shed a few tears.

God, this was _strange_.

His great-great Aunt Patricia didn't even look as though she cared. She was chattering on about some soap opera with his Uncle Richard.

"He never even sent me birthday cards, you know," she said suddenly, turning the topic towards him at last. "Boy never respected his elders."

His Uncle ignored her. Booth was finding this slightly frustrating, not being able to join in the conversation. There were more crying people now, and it was a bit disconcerting.

Then, at long last, a final line of people came into view. They were gathered in a small cluster, looking out of place. The squint squad had come.

At their front was Cam, who's face was carefully emotionless. He frowned in confusion. Surely she'd been informed... but yet there was a trace of definite puffiness to her eyes. Why on earth was she crying when he wasn't actually dead?

Angela and Hodgins were next. _Oh god, not good_... he thought to himself. Angela had clearly been sobbing, and Hodgins looked pretty helpless and a bit lost.

Zach, looking dazed and not at all sure about how he should feel, trailed behind them.

And then there was Bones.

Her face was blank. Totally wiped of emotion. As she got closer he could see that her eyes were hard and cold, and there was not a sign of a tear.

It was scary to see... because it was and it wasn't her at the same time.

That wasn't _his_ Bones. Definitely not.

That was Dr. Brennan from almost four years ago. That was the hard deathly stare he'd received on his first day. That was the 'business-only' manner in which she was conducting herself.

She'd lost that carefree way in which she walked when she was with him; each step she took was deliberate and calm. She kept pace easily with the group, just in front of a calm and collected Sweets.

A Sweets who looked as though he most certainly _knew_ about what was going to happen here. In contrast to the group, he appeared the most unaffected by the funeral.

Oh, Booth was going to _butcher_ Cullen when he spoke to him later. His boss or not... he was going to get it. What had happened to his list? He'd done this for two whole stinking weeks, pretended to be dead so he could catch a guy the FBI wanted, and this was how he got treated? None of his own wishes were met?

Bones and the others formed a line just in front of his line of soldiers. He focused only on her. She crossed her arms firmly and stood there with her hair blowing in the slight wind. She didn't look happy to be there. In fact, after a moment she started tapping her foot in frustration, her jaw set angrily.

Oh man, he was dead. She didn't know he was alive, that much was _very _clear. Everyone turned their attention to Caroline just then as she began speaking. It was a really nice speech, he thought, contemplating at the same time about how the prosecutor would probably kill him, too, when he made his arrival.

He turned his attention back to Bones.

"He gave his life to save his partner," Caroline was saying. Angela glanced at Bones, who continued to pretty much glare towards his casket, looking uncomfortable. "And in that brave act, he showed us what greatness we are all capable of."

"That woman was aiming at me; I would have happily taken that bullet," Bones said furiously. He winced at the idea of her lying on that stage, blood pouring from her instead of from him at the same time that Angela responded.

"I know," she told her friend.

"May God's grace and mercy rest on Seeley Booth as he takes his place beside the Lord," Caroline continued.

"If there was a merciful God, why wouldn't he have saved Booth?" she snapped.

Angela glanced again at her, sadness and pity in her gaze.

Booth wanted nothing more than to just go to her right then and let her know he _was_ saved. He was right here.

They were calling for a gun salute. He raised his weapon, his eyes flying through the crowd to the single figure that was stepping forward. He waited until the man was close enough and then he shoved Sweets out of the way, not really caring since the psychologist had no right to _know_ when his Bones hadn't been told, and then he launched himself at the criminal.

The casket fell over and he was briefly aware that the dummy inside had come out. Everyone knew _now_...

He was knocked over, and he kicked out with both legs, throwing the guy. The creep got a hold of his gun again though, and was getting to his feet. Bones appeared out of nowhere, brandishing an arm from the dummy and knocking the guy cold with a single blow.

Oh man, was she _mad_.

Her jaw was set back and she was breathing heavily, her eyes positively blazing. Her hair whipped across her face and she was glaring fiery daggers at him.

"Nice shot, Bones!" he told her, half-hoping maybe, just _maybe_, she'd accept the compliment and tell him how happy she was that he was alive. Hah, yeah right. Didn't he wish... "What?" he asked her. As if he didn't know...

Bad choice. Something in her seemed to snap, and she threw back her arm and launched herself at him. The blow slammed into his jaw and he dropped like a stone. She stood over him for a second, her chest heaving angrily, and then she turned and stormed past.

"Ow..." he muttered.

But hey, he'd take that any day.

Because they were both alive. And after he made it up to her, things could go back to normal.

Or as normal as they ever were with them...

And maybe, just maybe, this whole thing might help her open up a bit more about what they meant to each other.

Because it had certainly made an impression on him. Two weeks without Bones... a life without Bones... Oh there was no way he was _ever_ leaving.

Now he just had to convince her of that.

* * *

**So, what did you think? **


End file.
